A/N: I CHANGED THE TITLE - MANY THANKS TO A READER WHO POINTED OUT A BONES FIC OF THE SAME NAME ALREADY EXISTED- SO I'M REPOSTING THIS. ALSO I'VE MADE SOME MINOR EDITS. SOOOOO SCROLL DOWN, IT GETS BETTER!

I know, I know, but there have been some... issues... with the drafts for the latest chapter of Purak, and this just sort of popped out... and remember, Christmas is a time of forgiveness and acceptance and lighted trees in prison trailers and shiny baubles and mistletoe kisses and undressing Booth and exploding Santas and putting God in a beaker and digging up bodies in mass graves in Guatemala and undressing Booth. (Yes I know I said that last one twice, but you know why.)

The Fate in the Coincidence (Prev. The Reality in the Dream)

'I still don't believe in fate, you know.'

'And I still do.'

Brennan couldn't believe she'd let Angela talk her into coming to 'this amazing new dance club' she'd just discovered- again. And she couldn't wait until Booth arrived to pick her up. The artist had been a bundle of restless energy ever since Hodgins had left on his business trip last week to sort out the Cantiliver Group finances and their severely reduced funding, and Brennan just hadn't had the heart to refuse her best friend. Now, though, she wished she had taken a cue from Cam and cited an excuse like parental obligations or work. She would give just about anything to be in her husband's arms in bed right about now. Speaking of Booth, she glanced down at her phone and the text message she had just sent him was paired with a response on screen.

Please come get me.

OK, but promise me a dance.

She couldn't help but smile. Booth was foolishly sentimental and a hopeless romantic, and while she was neither of those things he always made her feel like she was getting it right, whatever this thing between them was, and he never made her conscious of her awkward limitations or lapses in her emotional growth.

'C'mon Bren, lighten up!' The pretty artist slurred slightly on the last bit, finally feeling the effects of the many fuzzy drinks with little umbrellas she had consumed. 'You know, you really should have another drink, or ten. I'm sure Booth wouldn't be happy to know I dragged you out here only to- hey, isn't that Sandra?'

All of this was said in one single breath, and Angela was now pointing to her right and gesturing frantically to divert Brennan's attention in the same direction. Brennan slapped her friend's hand out of her face. 'I can barely hear you, Angela!' With the music pounding loudly in her ears and the case she had been working on in limbo occupying most of the thoughts in her head, Brennan found herself in an unusual position as she struggled to catch up. 'Sandra who?'

'You know, Sandra Allington. From college.'

Sandra Allington was by this time making her way towards them. In a mini-dress cinched around a mini waist, she still looked the same as she had in college- or atleast aimed towards it- and Brennan's memory was jogged by her appearance. With dark eyes and dark frizzy hair fell in carefully coiffed waves down to her petite shoulders, she was street smart and conventionally attractive, and unused to not getting her way.

'Angela Montenegro and Temperance Brennan. Well, who would have thought- and don't you ladies look lovely!'

'Sandra Allington.' Angela smiled politely. 'It's good to see you again.'

'And after all this time, too. You must catch me up on your lives, both of you.'

Once the preliminaries were out of the way, they launched into conversation, exchanging stories and important milestones (Sandra and Angela did most of the talking, while Temperance mostly listened). When Sandra had walked into the club this evening, she hadn't expected to run into the crazy boho lesbian artist chick and the bones nerd from college. As she conversed with Angela, she could see that the other woman was happy and doing well- she didn't need to hear Brennan speak, though, she knew all about her successful life after college- she'd seen her on the news just last month, in fact, giving an interview at the release of her new book. Temperance Brennan- always one step ahead no matter how awkwardly she stumbled in getting there. She didn't know how she did it. She forcibly tamped down on her building resentment with some effort and focussed on Angela's recounting of her honeymoon instead. When it was her turn to reciprocate, Sandra made sure to sound confident and cool as she narrated her own life history. After all, she had a lot to boast of, so long as she rationed out the good stuff. While she wasn't a bestselling author like Tempe Brennan, she had done quite well for herself. She'd married an investment banker and they had a house in Malibu. No kids, thank heavens, besides the two from his previous marriage who only came down for the holidays- but they did have a hot tub and a poolhouse- all in all, it was a comfortable life. She even had a porsche and a membership at an exclusive club, with a group of girlfriends to hang out with every weekend. She embelished some details, ofcourse, and left out others, but the two other women listened attentively as she talked, for the most part- Brennan looked around a great deal and remained mostly expressionless so she couldn't be sure whether she was focussed on their conversation or not, but her friend expressed an interest and even asked questions at appropriate intervals. Angela was almost fun to talk to.

As their conversation came to a natural decline, Sandra leaned back against the bar and began inspecting the crowd once more. Maybe there were some potential single males here who could show her a good time.

'Man, the guys in this place are a bust. Aren't there any attractive men left to go around?'

'Are you looking?' Angela asked knowingly.

'For a one-night stand with a rich, handsome guy who's bored with his wife? You betcha. Who isn't?' (Brennan was about to helpfully pipe in that she wasn't, but Angela elbowed her in the ribs and she decided not to at the last minute. Sandra paid them no attention and took another swig of her drink before continuing) 'But it'd take atleast ten more gin and tonics for me to go home with that tonight.'

'Excuse me, but didn't you say you were married?'

This time Sandra turned from Brennan to Angela in incredulity. 'Is she serious?'

Angela grinned. 'You betcha.' Always.

Always clueless, Brennan. Sandra decided to be patient and explain rather than allowing her frustration to show. 'It's because I'm married that I can afford to have a little fun, you know what I'm saying?'

'...No.'

'Bren, Sweetie, she's just looking for a good time on her holiday.'

'Does 'having a good time' entail being unfaithful to her husband?' Brennan whispered a little too loudly, but Sandra was already scanning the room with her eyes again.

Angela gave a small nod, and Brennan raised her voice slightly and addressed the other woman in their little party.

'It seems to me that unless you have some sort of established polyamorous arrangement with your husband, what you are planning to do would be classified as cheating.'

'Look, what you don't know can't kill you. It's just a little bit on the side, you follow?'

'No, but I feel compelled to point out that your actions could be potentially damaging as well as morally reprehensi-'

'O...K, Sweetie, Sandra's a big girl, she can make her own decisions.' Angela took her friend's elbow and applied pressure on her arm, hoping to diffuse the argument before it broke out by avoiding it altogether.

'They're bad decisions, Angela', Brennan mumbled, but she quieted anyway and luckily the other woman couldn't make out their lowered voices above the din of the music. As she noticed their continued whispers, however, she turned to them and addressed Brennan.

'Come on, Brennan, I'm just looking to have a little bit of fun with someone I'll never have to see again, instead of the same guy I live with day in and day out, every day of every week. We've all been tempted to stray from our husbands now and again. Surely you understand that.'

'No, I do not.' She blinked those blue eyes guilelessly.

The other woman sighed. 'Look, I just want to spend a night with someone I don't have to spend the rest of my life with.'

'I don't know what that means.' Sandra couldn't detect a hint of deception- it was all innocence and honesty. Man, she must be a good actress, too.

'It's true, she really doesn't.' Angela almost snorted. 'You haven't seen the guy she married', she muttered under her breath. Get a load of that and maybe then you'll understand.

'Believe me, honey, when you've been together as long as Barry and I have, a casual look, a tawdry squeeze, it's good for your marriage', Sandra remarked flippantly, glancing around the room once more. 'It's not healthy if you don't look at other men besides your husband.' Her gaze flickered towards the door, and then her jaw dropped as the vision who had appeared in her line of vision began walking towards them. 'Unless your husband looks like that.' Angela smirked and Brennan checked her cell phone again while Sandra kept her eyes fixed on him as the gorgeous hunk of man made his way straight to them- and was only slightly deflated when he approached Temperance instead. Sure, she was easy on the eyes and not half bad to look at anymore, but once he realised how weird she was- they always did- he'd bolt and move straight to the next attractive woman at the bar- and she would be waiting - witty remarks at the tip of her tongue which was currently trapped in a salivating mouth. His chiseled face, rippling biceps, great bod and now the charming smirk on those perfect features -even directed at her ex-classmate- were almost too much to handle as he spoke in a sexy murmur.

'Hi.'

'Hi.'

Temperance looked up, eyes widened as ever. Well this should be good. Sandra smirked to herself. After all that preaching and morality bullshit about fidelity in marriage, there was no way she could respond to the advances of a random guy in a bar- but when the man in question looked like that, you'd have to be bloody stupid not to tap that, and if there was one thing Temperance Brennan wasn't, it was stupid. When it came to men, maybe she was, but you'd have to be blind not to jump this one. Still, though, she'd probably say something to muck it up pretty soon and Sandra could swoop in for the kill.

'Can I buy you a drink?'

Temperance's face split into a wide grin as she caught on, and the stranger's eyes darkened. 'Maybe if you play your game right.'
And there we go. Sure enough, the smirk was replaced by an eyeroll- but the expression and words that followed, half-part exasperation, half-part amusement, were full of affection.

'Cards, Bones, it's cards.'

Oh, no way.

When she managed to recover from her initial surprise, they were still splitting hairs over the subject of their earlier discussion- cards. They seemed to be getting into it now.

'But cards is also a game and-'

Another eyeroll and some bickering followed, and then someone attempted to insert themselves into a small crowd further along the bar causing Brennan to be jostled slightly, and a strong arm reached out and pulled her full against his hard chest. Their eyes seemed to meet in silent conversation and as he held her, the wedding band on his big hand glistened in the lights overhead. Well, there you go- the proof in the pudding.

He leaned in even closer if that was possible and spoke intimately. 'I'm sorry I'm late, baby, traffic was a nightmare and we had to detain that suspect for a while longer 'cause he assaulted one of the agents.'

'It's perfectly alright. And didn't you arrest him for assault on a federal officer?'

'Nah, it actually worked out pretty well in the end. We managed to cut a deal when we threatened to take him in, and he talked.'

Brennan's eyes narrowed. 'Did he attempt to assault you?'

Booth's smirk widened. 'Nothing I can't handle.'

'Did you provoke him, Booth?' The smirk vanished.

'What? No, no, no- honest.' The man- Booth- held up his hands in front of him in a placating gesture. 'We just got lucky, alright?'

'You said that luck doesn't exist inside the walls of the interrogation room.'

He rubbed the back of his neck restlessly. 'Yeah, well, this was the exception that proves the rule, and all that.' Then the cocky side-smile returned. 'Hey, you actually pay attention when I tell you those things, huh?'

'Ofcourse I pay attention, Booth. I wouldn't be a very good partner if I didn't. Or a very good wife, for that matter.'

His smile softened. 'You're the best, Bones', he murmured, and reached forward and brushed a lock of hair from her face, tucking it gently behind her ear in a simple but intimate gesture. 'Always.' The moment was so intense and private that Sandra felt like a voyeur- but she couldn't bring herself to move. She almost had the grace to look away- almost.

'Now, I believe you owe me a dance.'

'Oh', Temperance smiled and gasped softly, placing her hand -also adorned with an elegant gold band- in her husband's while he stared at her adoringly. She seemed to notice they weren't alone, however, as he began to lead her out to the floor, and remembering her manners, she turned belatedly to introduce him to her companion.

'Oh, Booth, this is Sandra Allington, we went to college together. She's, um, well I'm not sure what she does exactly but she's married to an investment banker.' Brennan added politely, and Booth was so taken by how clueless and wide-eyed she looked that he didn't even think to notice or apologise for his wife's tact, or lack thereof. He managed a courteous 'it's-nice-to-meet-you' and some pleasantries and flashed a sheepish grin at Angela and a warning about not drinking too much and letting random guys fall in love with her while Hodgins wasn't around and turning to his wife.

'Shall we?'

Sandra's mouth fell open as the couple walked past her. He'd barely even looked at her. Actually, he'd turned his eyes from Temperance Brennan only for just as long as necessary politeness demanded and his attention had never really left her. But it was when he looked back at his wife that she realised, bored and married and gorgeous or not, she didn't stand a chance with the man. And the way Temperance was looking right back at him, it seemed as if no one else would ever have a chance-with either of them.

'So, Bones, that woman at the bar with you guys, you went to college together?' He had successfully distracted her from the suspicions that had formed in their earlier conversation about the new suspect in the case on which Booth was assisting a rookie agent- the whole thing seemed to have worked out a bit too conveniently, just in time for him to arrive at the club to meet them as planned- but now he was leading her forward with her hand wrapped in his, she wasn't likely to remember- as she'd told him before, he sometimes made it very hard to concentrate.

'Yes. She was in the same floor of the shared campus accomodation as me and Angela.'

'Huh. You don't like her.'

'I- what? I never said that.'

'Bones, I know you.' Booth chuckled, pulling her close and turning her slightly. 'You don't like her.'

Brennan scrunched her nose adorably. 'I barely remember her, Booth.'

He raised an eyebrow and pulled her close, holding her almost protectively to him as his tone softened. 'Was she mean to you in college, baby?'

Brennan frowned but pressed automatically closer to him before pulling her face away slightly from where it was burrowed in his shirt to reply. 'I confess that while I have only a vague recollection of her from college, Angela informs me she was quite rude in speaking to the other students, and although she was very pleasant just now, I think she may be pretending.'

'Hm.'

'So I suppose you're right. She never seemed to like me very much, and I don't particularly care for her.'

Well he decided he didn't like this woman very much either- Sandra Aslington or whatever her name was.

'Yeah?'

'Yes, she was quite jealous of the treatment I received from Michael.'

Stires. Booth stiffened and held her closer, then forced himself to get a grip and snap out of it.

'- favoured me above the other students. Booth?'

He took a deep breath, repeating a familiar chant in his head. I am not a possessive ape, I can do this. I can have a rational conversation with my wife about men from her past, without committing homicide. You'll see, Bones, I am a fully functioning adult and totally capable of having a discussion about your ex-boyfriends without...without... he couldn't do it. Dammit. he hated that anyone else had ever had the chance to be with her, couldn't handle the thought of another man touching her. He wasn't a jealous guy by nature, he never had been- but when it came to Bones- he knew that she'd never loved anyone the way she loved him, knew that he'd never truly loved anyone but her- that he couldn't, really- but he just wished he could be the only one to have loved her at all. He took a deep breath. Change the topic. Safe bet.

'You know, I'm only just beginning to understand the importance of facial cues, and she always had this weird way of wrinkling her nose when she looked at me...'

'Oh yeah?' He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb, listening to her soothing voice that always calmed him down completely after a long day like this one. He was still holding her a bit too close- definitely closer than etiquette demanded, and probably closer than must be comfortable, but Brennan seemed far from complaining so he wasn't going to kick a gift horse in the mouth. He was ridiculously comfortable in this position, actually, so as long as he took care not to hold her tight enough to crush her, he wasn't going to draw attention to the fact that they were barely moving. No matter what Bones said, sometimes it was best to thank god for small miracles and be done with it.

'Yes. You know, you're not being very talkative all of a sudden, Booth. Are you alright?' In a very maternal gesture that he wasn't sure she would have made before they'd had children together, she reached up to feel his forehead, and he smiled to himself.

'What- hm? No, I'm just a little tired, baby, I was listening to you.'

'Okay, but if you need to sit down-'

'No!' Sitting down meant no Bones in his arms. Standing up meant holding her. Standing up was good. 'Go on, tell me more about college Bones, please.'

'Alright.' And as he rested his head against that spot that was made for him between her neck adn shoulder, she talked about anthropology classes and facial expressions and strange women - and men- many of whom, Booth could tell her now, were just too intimidated by her success to handle it properly, and she let him sway her in his arms gracefully and without protest or conscious thought.

'Hey look, Bones, it's nearly midnight', he murmured, resting his forehead against hers. 'In less than one hour, it'll be one day before our anniversary.'

She rolled her eyes but smiled hugely all the same. 'Booth, we have been over this before, and there is no such thing as a pre-day anniversary.'

'Mm, yeah.' He nuzzled her nose with his, and leaned in for a kiss. 'I still think it's a thing, Bones.'
She didn't even bother objecting as his mouth covered hers, swallowing any protests she may have had- not that she could remember them anyway, when he kissed her. She responded helplessly as always and his tongue slipped into her mouth as it touched hers and the kiss got very heated, very quickly. It was almost out of control when Booth pulled away an instant later. There was a reason he didn't kiss her in public. Bickering, crime-solving, arguments, any sort of interaction, really, when it had to do with Bones, it was always... passionate. In an overwhelming sort of way. And kissing her- God, kissing her. He leaned his head against hers, catching his breath and his bearings. How could he anchor himself to reality when his only reality was his dream, and he was holding it? Bones. She was always the dream he could never have, and she was always the only reality he could ever live.

'Wha-' Brennan began to register the familiar strains of guitaring over the speakers. Well I'm hot blooded, check it and see... Got a fever bout a hundred and three... C'mon baby you can do more than dance-

Her eyes, widened pools of blue that he could never help getting lost in, looked up at him with unknowing love and happiness. The dream he couldn't wake from, and the only reality he would wake up to for the rest of their lives.

'Listen, baby, it's our song.' Booth grinned widely. 'What do you know, huh? Must be fate.'

Hot blooded...

'I refuse to believe it's coincidental, Booth', Brennan raised an brow skeptically, but her eyes, so filled with happiness, gave her away. He just smiled wider and said nothing.

'I still don't believe in fate, you know.'

'And I still do.'

Back at the bar, Angela was standing with a smug smile on her face, and her expression melted with heartfelt warmth as she looked at her two friends across the dancefloor. She had just returned from delivering Booth's request to the DJ- it had seemed like an unusual one at first, but she had learned not to ask too many questions where Booth and Brennan were concerned, because there were some things between them that even she would never understand- noone else could- and she could see the change in Brennan's expression as she reacted to the song even from this distance, so she couldn't help but feel happy for her best friend. Her companion, whose spluttering and gaping had been the cause for Angela's earlier mirth, finally seemed to find her words again.

'He's, um', Angela decided to let her fumble for words. 'He's quite something.'

The artist grinned her Cheshire cat grin. 'Oh yeah.' The words left much to the imagination.

'Seems like quite the catch.' In a slightly strained voice.

'I know, right? And he's playing their song.' The forced enthusiasm she injected in her voice was surprisingly not faked.

The woman next to her frowned, wrinkling her nose slightly, but continued the conversation all the same. 'I thought the DJ isn't taking any requests tonight?'

'He's not', Angela confirmed. 'But Booth flashed him his badge on the way in, and then he asked me to go over and, um, "remind" him when the time came.'

'Being married to an FBI agent has its perks, huh?' Even the saccharine sweetness of the fake smile couldn't hide the genuine bitterness behind the words.

Angela almost snorted. 'You bet', she replied good-naturedly. 'And being married to this FBI Agent...' she left the rest unsaid with plenty of room for interpretation, and she was sure Sandra would let her imagination drive her wild. It was almost too easy with this one. Booth looking the way he did, and looking at Brennan the way he did right then were a huge help also.

'Are they always-?'

'Ohh yeah.'

Yeah, Temperance Brennan really had lucked out.

Back on the dancefloor, Booth stole another breathtaking kiss and pulled his willing wife impossibly close in his arms, so that he could feel her pressed against him fully through the length of their bodies, their hearts and minds moving to the rhythm together. His hand intertwined with hers and even the innocent gesture was filled with pure feeling and unbearable intensity. He leaned in closer to her ear, and whispered,

'Happy pre-day anniversary, baby.'

'Happy pre-day anniversary, Booth.'

Brennan smiled, and Booth kissed her again.

Yeah, Temperance Brennan really had lucked out.

A/N: AND HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO YOU ALL! Well I hope you liked this, and that you still like me, despite the prolonged wait time between updates. Cheers, and have a Booth-y holiday!